Balance

Yesterday was glorious. I focused a full day on ExOr. I moved, ate well, and power napped. I was mostly patient and present with my kids. Then, I got to go with a dear friend to see Brandi Carlile at Maymont, this urban gem in RVA, and it was magical.

We opted to forgo the booze and enjoy a more green option. It was giggly and chatty and groovy. It was silly and real and light. It was special and it was important. Lovely bonus: With no alcohol, I awoke for a busy day mostly well rested and peaceful.

And then, there was Brandi Carlile, mostly solo. UN.BE.LIEVABLE. Just no other words.

She was deep, she was fun, she was passionate. She was so obviously clear about her space as an artist and a human and a modern, married, mama who knows meaning.

Her talents shown so bright – 

The lyrics she weaves to heal and connect.
The mastery of her gifts both given and learned.
The storytelling that inspires laughter and catharsis and uplift.
The pride of creating a family that allows others to dream.
The clarity of building a village that can commune together.
The generosity of deference to those who paved the way.
The fullness of teaching us that we are not alone.

It was seen. It was special. 

Getting to experience Brandi share her story so generously, and then be joined by her wife Catherine was IN.CREDIBLE, and then the twins joined, and really, RI.DICULOUS. 

I had an evening of real gratitude and joy, humor and beauty, and shared it with someone I hold dear, which made for the most extraordinary story.

Then, there’s today.

Like I said, I woke up pleasantly uplifted. My body felt good, my brain quite clear, and my intention fairly reasonable – be patient and present with the girls, while also getting myself to a new sub gig. 

For the most part, the girls and I scored relatively high in terms of intention and my nursing skills weren’t too rusty. It all was going well, if not hectic, until there was some ambiguity. Some conflict between my lived experience and my scope of practice. I did the best I could, I believe that to be true, and also, I feel down on myself in ways that feel wholly unreasonable. 

Isn’t it strange how a near perfect evening, a pleasantly peaceful morning, and a near ideal execution of labor can be disrupted, and frankly, hijacked by one moment of uncertainty? 

As a libra, I am astrologically inclined toward ambivalence. And yet, my insides incessantly crave peace. Unfortunately, the hurt parts of me get all stirred up and out of whack, while my supportive pieces get cautious and quiet when those dark inner voices start hurling around mean thoughts. 

That does not feel like balance. 

It made me all kinds of uncomfortable. I had to step away and deep breathe. I had to pace and release the bodily tensions of this anxiety. I had to admit to my girls that mommy wasn’t feeling well and needed them to be gentle with me. 

Then, I wrote. Got it all out. The good, the bad, the conflicted. As the intensity left my mind for the longevity of the page, those sensations started to dull, to soft, to release. They were no longer an acute situation requiring fight-or-flight attention, they were a part of my story that was beautiful and challenging, stimulating and important, big and also so, so small. 

That felt like balance. And it helped. 

I just keep thinking about Brandi Carlile. This story of her father and his relationship with substances. Experiencing how she used her creativity and craft to heal and create a set of intentions by which to measure her own relationship with life. Taking some hard and sharp and transforming it into something inspirational and meaningful, and then offering it to others, well, that’s pretty extraordinary. 

The more I live, the more comfortable I become with the grey of life. Now I begin to really experience the spectacular and the difficult without distraction and avoidance. Remembering that this too shall pass helps, as does pausing to practice 15 minutes of relentless self care. 

That investment allows me to fully experience the sensation and process it more manageable by emptying my soul with a cry, capturing the context in writing, or connecting with space that feels safe. 

What do you do when you feel unsteady? When you’re experiencing great joy, do you worry when it will be balanced with strife? Where do you feel most secure no matter life’s expectations?

Do you have a story of extreme swings that you’d be brave enough to share @extheornow

I apologize for this lengthy pontificatation, there was plenty wrestling around in my dome. If you are still here, thank you. I hope it was worth it. 

Sincerely,
K

If you’ve made it to the end of this, I am most grateful. My head is a swirl of loneliness, gratitude, exasperation and hope. Knowing a part of me is now with you brings much peace.

I would be honored if you would share your story with me, in some small way @extheornow